


Move Along

by GaryTheFish



Series: Hope is a Four Letter Word [37]
Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, Thor (Movies)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Coping Mechanisms, Established Relationship, F/M, Fluff, Loki - Canon Divergence
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-08-26
Updated: 2016-08-26
Packaged: 2018-08-11 05:17:52
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,601
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7878013
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GaryTheFish/pseuds/GaryTheFish
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In which Parker has problems, Aeslin has an existential crisis and everything ends up all right in the end. Sort of.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Move Along

Parker strolled through the hallways of Stark Industries, discreetly checking nameplates and trying to act as casually and professionally as possible. For someone who, in a former life, had been able to bend time and space to get where he’d wanted to go, Loki was apparently completely incapable of giving directions in the real world.

( _“I don’t know_ how _I get there, I just do. I think she’s near the medical wi- no, wait, she told him she wanted nothing to do with doctoring for the foreseeable future. By the copy editors? Graphic design? I’m so sorry; I’m no help at all. I’d walk you, but the reps from Stafford are going to be here in less than ten minutes and I’ve got to meet them. If you do find her, pass this along, would you?”)_

Parker sighed and let his head fall back in irritation as he arrived at the gaily-decorated entrance to the day care center. Another wrong turn. He returned the way he’d come, following the signs to the main lobby. One of the volunteers took pity on him, and ten minutes later she’d pointed down a hallway Parker vaguely remembered from his single previous visit. Little wonder now why they always hung out in Loki’s office as opposed to hers, hidden as it was at the back end of the known universe.

“Third door on your right,” the intern told him with a smile, glancing down at the paper flower poking out of his laptop case. “Lucky lady.”

“Yeah,” he replied without thinking. “She is.”

A wink as the woman began her long trek back to the front desk, and Parker turned at the last minute. “Wait - she- it’s not-”

His guide waved in the second before she disappeared around the corner; Parker huffed out a breath and pulled the flower, along with his messy notes, from his bag. He checked the paper, read it again, then shoved it into his pocket. He knocked on the window, taking the muffled response as permission to enter and pushed the door open. Aeslin looked up from a desk that was more of a disaster than was normal for her and with a faintly preoccupied expression; Parker held up the delicate, cascading paper plant, and his mind went suddenly blank. They stared at each other in confusion for a brief moment.

“Damn it,” he finally said, going back into his pocket for the battered sticky note. He squinted at the smeared pencil lines. “ _Org- Origanum dictamn_ \- _Origanum dictamnus_ **.** Oh, for _hell’s_ sake. Here.” Parker held it out by the stem.

“Thank you.” She distractedly took both the gift and his scrawled note, rolling her chair back to her desk as she did so. He tapped his fingers on the strap of his laptop as she put it in the vase on the edge of her desk, safe among several other flowers.

“Do I want to know what it means?”

“Hold on.” A few seconds of rapid typing, and she looked up at him. “Dittany of Crete, according to this,” she told him. “White means passion.”

Parker smirked. “Well. That’s lovely.”

An answering smile as she gestured to the vase. “Maybe, but I’m sure it’s making up for Monday’s offering, which was a slipper orchid. _Capricious beauty_.”

A wince. “Harsh.”

“Nah,” she said. “I had it coming. I’ve been a mess lately.”

Parker dropped onto one of the other chairs, putting his laptop bag carefully next to him. “More so than usual?”

She threw a wad of paper at him. “Hush. Maybe. Probably. I caught him researching hurricane names the other day. He seemed disappointed that I’m not on the list, but then again, neither is he.”

“And you both _should_ be,” Parker said, “just so we can declare you two national disasters and be done with it. I wonder how many contacts Stark has at NOAA?” Propping his feet on the edge of her desk, he unwrapped the paper she’d hit him with. “We should look into it. Loki’s birthday’s coming up, right? Make him a hurricane. Seems like a nice gesture.”

“Or not. He’s spent enough time playing second fiddle to a force of nature. He’d probably much prefer socks, to be honest, or gift cards. Music. Books. Heaven knows he’s already inhaled my entire collection and is probably halfway through the Library of Congress by now.”

“Truth.” Parker held up the wrinkled sheet with one eyebrow raised. “What’s all this? And why aren’t you at the stables, anyway?”

“This is an existential crisis,” she said, flicking another crumpled ball of notepaper off her desk and at his face. He caught it easily and tossed up in the air, bouncing it off his knuckles. “What was I thinking, Parker? ”

“You were thinking of yourself for once in your life,” Parker said as the crumple of paper dropped back into his hand. “Must be weird.”

“Shut up.” She resumed typing, then stopped again almost immediately. “Seriously. What. Lesson plans? Designing a field school for next summer? Writing tests? Picking textbooks? Moving to London. Picking a house. I’m insane. _Insane_. Right?”

A shrug. “You’re the doc, doc. You tell me. Besides, it’s not like you’re doing this alone. Loki’s working on the house, right? I thought you had it narrowed down.”

“Right, but he’s also having to find space for his workshop. It’s involved, and do you have any _idea_ how long it’s been since I made a lesson plan? Years. Maybe never. I don’t even _remember_. Introduction to archaeology. How hard can it be?”

“Not that-”

“ _Hard_.” She drew out the word for a long second. “I’m overthinking this. I know I am. Do I gloss over the Leakeys? Call out Binford on his blatant data manipulation and the way he played fast and loose with the facts to fit his theories? What about maritime archaeology? Star Carr? I can’t do it all. It’s a general education class. I’m going to have physics majors in there. _Physics_.” She hissed the last bit, dropping her forehead onto the book in front of her with a thump.

“You’ll be awesome.”

“They’re going to be so _bored_ ,” she said into the cover of what Parker could only assume was an archaeology textbook.

“Can’t please everyone.” He tossed the crumpled scrap of paper back toward her desk; it ricocheted off her head and bumped against the crowd of picture frames on her desk. “It’s normal growing pains, kid. I think I’d be more worried if you _weren’t_ panicking right now. No wonder Loki’s upping his game.”

“ _Ren_ frew,” she bellowed in response, lifting her head and startling Parker. “Of course. What’s Renfrew’s latest edition?” More frantic typing, and Parker leaned back a little, listening to her muttering to herself. “Don’t _need_ to borrow your lesson plans,” she said. “Make some of my _own_ , I said. Hngh.” Aeslin rapidly jotted down notes, flicking back and forth through a thick, closely-written notebook and occasionally turning to the keyboard for another vicious bout of searching. After a few moments, she looked up, brushing hair from her face, and seemed a bit surprised to see him.

“Still here,” she said, brows knit.

“Still here,” he repeated calmly.

He watched her in silence for a second, and finally something clicked behind her eyes. She sat up. “Sorry. I’m so sorry. Oh, man. You’re not here to listen to me whine.”

“Well, I don’t really mind it,” Parker admitted, hand still resting on his laptop bag, “Never have. You’re right, though. I didn’t spend over twenty-five minutes hiking out here to freaking Antstarktica just to deliver origami. That was only a delightful side quest.”

Her smile was a little abashed. “I figured probably not. I appreciate it, though. So what’s up?”

“Providence. The universe loves me.”

She blinked. “What?”

“I came here with a problem,” he said, settling back and resting his hands on his stomach, “and lo and behold, I find that you _also_ have a problem. The very same problem, in fact. So instead of my original plan, which, incidentally, involved me throwing myself at your mercy, I can offer us both a solution.”

“To my problem.”

He held up a finger. “To _our_ problem.”

Aeslin’s eyes narrowed fractionally.

“Which is?”

“Stark added me to a research team a few weeks ago. The project’s fascinating. Amazing. Infinite applications. Infinite possibilities.”

“That doesn’t sound like a problem.”

A nonchalant shrug. “Except I’m stuck.”

She froze, and a sly smile crept onto Parker’s face.

“And it would _appear_ , Doctor Kindle, that you are _also_ stuck, or at the very least confused and-slash-or distressed, and it just so _happens_ that I have a proven system.”

“Parker, I really don’t think this is-”

“Jarvis?” he said to the ceiling, and the AI answered almost immediately.

“Yes, Doctor Parker?”

“Playlist Gamma, please.”

“Passphrase?”

“ _Dance Party._ ”

She shook her head at him, but he was already shifting, shoulders and arms moving rhythmically to the music that flowed from the ceiling speakers. The tune picked up, a strong, catchy beat with drums and violins, of all things, and he stood. A smooth shuffle, a sinuous movement or two, and then she finally gave in to her laughter as she allowed him to pull her to her feet.

***

 _They meet around the end of the long conference table, and Loki discreetly rubs a tight spot at the back of his neck. The first round of talks has ended, and they will resume tomorrow. They have been slick and brutal; Stafford's negotiators are apparently legendary, and he cannot remember the last time he has had this much fun raising hell in a council chamber. Probably the talks with_ _Nidavellir, the ones that went on for days and months; those, too had been difficult and long-winded._

_Too difficult, as it turned out, for the All-Father's temper. He'd been worn and snappish, an Odinsleep drawing rapidly near, and he and Thor had withdrawn early on in an attempt to salvage the talks. That had left only Frigga and a too-young Loki to do the negotiating and shouting, but in the end, the treaty had been signed. Cooler heads had prevailed, the dwarven envoy had proclaimed with a none-too-subtle glare at Thor and his father, and after the dwarves had returned home, Loki and Frigga had laughed themselves sick at the idea of being considered the voices of reason. Dwarves had a very particular negotiating style, and the insults had flown hard and fast for hours on end. Loki had quite a knack for diplomacy, his mother had said, congratulating him on his quick thinking. She hadn’t even made him wash his mouth out with soap for his more creative expletives, though he'd well earned it; he did, however, get a sharp rap on the knuckles after admitting he’d learned all of his best words from her._

_He breaks from his reverie at the sound of Happy’s voice._

_“Noise complaint,” the aide is saying. “Not a big deal.”_

_“Show me,” Stark responds, and he and Loki both look at the images that bloom to life on the smooth glass of the tabletop. There’s a long silence. “He’s… rather good, isn’t he?” the inventor asks, and Loki nods._

_“He is,” he confirms. “Performing arts minor. He used to do musicals in college. Auditioned to meet girls.” He turns back to his copy of the contract, pulling the cap off his fountain pen._

_“Well_ that _didn’t show up on his resume,” Starks observes. He taps the table to mute the feed. “Jarvis, up the dampeners in that section, would you? Just for a few more minutes. No point in making a scene.”_

_“Done, sir.”_

_Stark turns back to Loki. “Parks doesn’t seem the type to need something like that. Seems pretty comfortable in his own skin.”_

_A shrug. “He was a late bloomer, from what he tells me. It was a way for him to stretch.”_

_“Ah.” Stark gives him a canny look. “So what’s the rest of the story? I mean, not every astrophysicist gets a minor in musical theater, right? There's got to be another reason.”_

_“Music, dance and theater, from what I understand,” Loki clarifies. “He got it for a very specific reason, and he only chose it after making the decision to study biology.” He makes a notation in the margin of the page. “We talked a lot about it when we worked together at the Warehouse. His belief is that science tells us how to do things. Create anything we wish; it’s only a matter of time and effort. The humanities, on the other hand, tell us why perhaps we_ shouldn’t _.”_

_There is a brief, contemplative silence. “So why is he dancing now? Celebration?”_

_“He’s stuck. It clears his head. I’ve seen it before; he’s quite impressive.”_

_Tony chuckled as he turned off the display and went back to studying his copy of Loki’s notes from the meeting. “And full of surprises, apparently.”_

_Loki shook his head. “Not really. Once you truly get to know him, there aren’t as many as you’d think.”_

***

Aeslin’s office was quiet save for the sound of keyboards and the occasional rustle of paper. Parker tapped his trackpad a few times; there was a click of a mouse from the desk across the room and a long, quiet sigh. He grinned.

“Is that the sound of a lesson plan being submitted I hear?”

A gentle scoff. “Shush.”

“Told you it would work.”

That earned him another wadded ball of notebook paper to the face, and he tossed it back at her without looking. He found himself staring thoughtfully at his screen, not actually seeing what was in front of him. At last he looked up to see her organizing her desk, sorting papers and shifting photos.

“He’s proud of you, you know,” he said, almost wanting to take the words back in the deep stillness that followed.

“I know,” she replied after a moment, but Parker shook his head.

“Not him.” He inclined his head to the photo snugged next her monitor. “Coulson.” She closed her eyes for a second, lips pressed together, but he went on. “You didn’t belong at SHIELD any more than I did, and you know it. What you’re doing, what you’ve already done-” he shook his head, “it’s been brutal. Anyone can see that, if they look hard enough, but you’re finally carving your own path. You’re finding out who you are and what you really want out of all this, and that's amazing. And maybe it’s a stupid and trite thing to say, but I hope you see that. And I hope you know he’s proud. _So_ proud of you.” He closed his laptop and walked over to the desk where she sat with her head in her hands; he knelt in front of her. She wiped at her face, and he pulled her into a hug, made awkward by the strange angle created by their positions.

“We all are. You know that, right?” he repeated, and he felt her nod against his shoulder. “All of us. But him most of all.”

A sniffle; she pulled back, and Parker gave her an encouraging grin. She made a face back.

“I have a video conference with my department chair in less than half an hour,” she said, doing her best to staunch her tears and drag herself back together. “I kind of hate you right now.”

He patted her shoulder. “I know.”

She hugged him again, hard and sudden, with her arms tight around his neck. “Not really,” she said. “I promise.”

Parker smiled. “Know that, too.”

 

**Author's Note:**

> Title from the song by The All American Rejects.
> 
> A Random Sampling of Parker's Playlist:
> 
> Cecelia and the Satellite by Andrew McMahon in the Wilderness  
> Sexyback by Justin Timberlake  
> Word Crimes by Weird Al Yankovic  
> Something Wild by Andrew McMahon in the Wilderness featuring Lindsey Stirling  
> Pocketful of Sunshine by Natasha Bedingfield  
> Short Skirt/Long Jacket by Cake  
> She's Madonna by Robbie Williams and the Pet Shop Boys
> 
> Feedback appreciated! Not beta read, so any mistakes are mine.
> 
> Sorry for the wait, but there are good things on the horizon. :) Real life is a mess right now, HOWever, just wanted to toss out the fact that my kickass brilliant amazing collaborator and I are currently working on an official sequel. Might not show up for a bit, but it's in the works and we are V. Excited. Several more one-shots coming. Love you all!


End file.
